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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/26419774">Bridesmaid Series</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/taupeus/pseuds/taupeus'>taupeus</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Haikyuu!!</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Alcohol, Biting, Bridesmaids/groomsmen, Cockwarming, Creampie, Cunnilingus, Cussing, F/M, Fluff and Smut, Humiliation, Overstimulation, Peer pressure?, Pet Names, Pillow Talk, Praise Kink, Sexual Tension, Smut, Vaginal Fingering, beach wedding (not yours), party poopers</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>In-Progress</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-09-17</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-10-10</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-06 13:21:51</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Explicit</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>4</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>6,676</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/26419774</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/taupeus/pseuds/taupeus</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Various Haikyuu x bridesmaid!reader scenarios</p><p>a/n: I find myself cowering at the slightest hints of domesticity irl and therefore have trouble writing it so here’s a little idea I came up with that’s (sort of) close to that kind of commitment.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Miya Atsumu/Reader, Sakusa Kiyoomi/Reader</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>6</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>164</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. Something Blue (Miya Atsumu)</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>In which you’ve seen much of these events in cliches and damsel in distress tropes</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p><b>warnings:</b> suggestive, sexual tension, party poopers?<br/><b>wc:</b> 600+</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>The six o’clock sunset sky illuminated the sea with its orange and pink hues. <em>It really makes for the occasion</em>, you thought. But actually, you’re far more glad that the sound of the waves drowns out whatever drunken noise is coming from the makeshift tent.</p>
<p></p><div class="tcontain">
<p></p><div class="esp text">
<p></p><div class="tumblr_parent"><p>Still, you silently thank your cousin for forcing you to be one of her bridesmaids despite huge gatherings not being your thing. When she mentioned it’d be a beach wedding, you were pretty much sold.</p>
<p>‘<em>You mean I get to have an excuse to wear a floor-length nude evening dress at the beach? Where do I sign up?</em>’</p>
<p>So a few vow-exchanging, cute groomsmen-spotting, cake-cutting, wine-drinking, and bird-releasing/abuse ceremonies later, you find yourself a few meters away from the commotion, taking the start of the afterparty as your cue to do away with your business.</p>
<p>Your bridesmaid flower crown is long-forgone and you had also taken out your midnight blue scarf, wrapping it short and loose around your neck. You brush your fingers through your hair, raising it to let the ocean breeze brush over your now exposed back. You close your eyes and tilt your chin up, baring your neck to this sensation on your skin.</p>
<p>Snapping you out of your daze is the wind snagging your scarf off your neck—the garment didn’t go far but tides are starting to be unforgiving at this hour.</p>
<p>It takes you a few good seconds to decide if it’s worth the risk of getting your dress wet before you reach for the hems of your dress, clumping and holding them up to your knees.</p>
<p>You freeze when you hear a snicker coming from behind you before the apparent source of it walks past you and beats you to your scarf.</p>
<p>It’s one of the groomsmen from your now-cousin-in-law’s side of the family. Dirty blonde with a clean black undercut, white dress shirt that’s four (maybe five) buttons undone—exposing his chest—he’s barefoot but he didn’t even bother folding his beige pants before charging on. He’s shoots you a smirk before picking up your scarf and gently wringing the saltwater out. He looks far too amused for someone whose getup had been needlessly soiled by the ocean.</p>
<p>“Oh, you didn’t have to, but thank you—”</p>
<p>“<em>Atsumu</em>,” he says as he walks over to you, “seemed like an important scarf and uh, ya can thank me tomorrow over dinner.”</p>
<p>You smirk, raising an eyebrow and tilting your head to the side, “I feel like I’ve seen this already.”</p>
<p>“Oh yeah?”</p>
<p>“Yeah, in Hercules or the ones you see in cliches. You know—the whole <em>damsel</em> in distress then the hero conveniently hears her distress call, comes to her rescue, and they both get wet for it.”</p>
<p>“Darling, you didn’t even <em>touch</em> the water. I didn’t get you wet, did I?” He hands you your scarf.</p>
<p>Chuckling, you say, “just a little. But don’t worry, you don’t have to <em>commit</em>.”</p>
<p>“But what if I want to?”</p>
<p>“Then I guess we could look into it after dinner tomorrow” you couldn’t help but give him a little wink, “I’m [y/n]. Nice to meet you, Atsumu.”</p>
<p>“‘s that a yes?”</p>
<p>“Only if you promise to change into something dry.”</p>
<p>That earns you yet another snicker from him, “I will if you will. Eight pm, sound good?”</p>
<p>You’re interrupted by the sound of roaring cheers and clinking bottles apparently for someone who had just passed out and it’s been barely a few hours into the afterparty.</p>
<p>Both of you were looking engrossed at the scenery before Atsumu turns to look back at you.</p>
<p>“Y’know what, scratch that. Wanna get outta here?”</p>
<p>“I thought you’d never ask.”</p></div></div></div>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. Something Borrowed (Sakusa Kiyoomi)</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>In which you find no way out of the most absurd wedding tradition of all time—the garter toss.</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p><b>warnings:</b> suggestive, cussing, peer pressure?, sexual tension, biting, alcohol<br/><b>wc:</b> 2k<br/><br/><b>a/n:</b> This may already well be my favorite fic of this series. With how I ended this, I believe I also just promised you guys a part 2 to this. Enjoy! x</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>“Flower girls, please save the petals for when you walk down the aisle. And <em>please</em>, behave,” the coordinator says with hints of sweetness in his voice. He dusts off a few petals that got on his sleeves from a playful dispute between the little girls. Later on he requests for the older (and the more collected) bunch—the bridesmaids and groomsmen—to be in their places in exactly five minutes.</p><p>You don’t really know much of the people here, save for a few bridesmaids and the bride, herself, with all of whom you’ve been close friends with ever since high school. A few minutes ago, at the very brief orientation for the entourage, you stiffened when they announced who you’re getting paired with—a tall man with black wavy hair swept to one side, two moles on the right side of his forehead, dark piercing eyes, and the rest of his face hidden behind a mask. Not that you’re complaining or anything, he just looked to you like he didn’t want to be there.</p><p>The coordinator darts his eyes back and forth from his clipboard onto the pairs falling in line, but fixes his gaze on your partner who’s currently about an arm’s length away from you.</p><p>“Kiyoomi-san, please take it off just for the ceremony.”</p><p>Your partner gives his offender a sinister look, furrowing his brows before ultimately giving in—taking a deep sigh as he hooks his fingers on either side of his mask.</p><p>Your head subconsciously draws back upon seeing his whole face—eyes fluttering at how taken you are by how soft the entirety of his face looked <em>regardless</em> of the spiteful demeanor he gave off.</p><p>Mesmerized, you watch him slowly glance from the ground up as he folds his mask, keeping it deep in one of his pockets. As soon as your eyes locked, he raises his brows and the realization kicks in that you had just been caught ogling him.</p><p>Immediately, you look away, attempting to brush off your embarrassment now that you’re minutes away from walking down the aisle.</p><p>
  <em>Shit. Please look away, please—</em>
</p><p>Promptly, you checked to see if he’s still looking—and yes, he is, in fact, staring at you intently. He takes one step towards you, slowly closing the gap between the two of you.</p><p>“Sorry, I was just…did you want something—”</p><p>“Hold still.”</p><p>He inches closer to you, inspecting your face, and you can feel his warm breath brushing over your cheek. He raises his hand and as soon as you feel his fingers running through your hair, you couldn’t help but jolt backwards in response.</p><p>“I said hold <em>still</em>,” he says with a commanding tone.</p><p>Your mouth opens agape and you feel a soft pinch at the top of your head. Pretty soon, he’s waving a stray petal in front of your face.</p><p>He falls back in line, letting go of the petal to drop on the red carpet, and you, on the other hand, have not moved an inch from where he left you.</p><p>You realize that you may have overreacted but your heart is pumping, nonetheless.</p><p>“[y/n], Kiyoomi, you’re up next!” The coordinator announces, snapping you out of your daze.</p><p>…</p><p>If there’s one thing at a wedding that the guests enjoy more than the bride and groom themselves, that would be the garter toss. Roaring cheers could be heard from all corners of the reception hall and phones were whipped out, taking every good angle of the bride and groom in the middle of the dance floor—not missing a shot of this momentous occasion. You could even tell by the expressions of the hotel staff that they aren’t immune to the appeal of the lewd tradition.</p><p>From a viewer’s perspective, the ordeal goes by quickly and yet it somehow feels menacingly slow—but obviously, it’s due to the thrill of having someone consent to getting borderline felt up on center stage as someone sticks his head under their skirt, all while crappy stripper music plays in the background.</p><p>You have to admit, it’s quite the craze…until you consider the possibility that it’s you who gets to do it after.</p><p>To slim those chances, you stand as far back as possible, also so as to not get caught up with the horde of bachelorettes aching for their turn to play wifey. Your friend—the bride—takes one good look at you lot before spotting you at the rear, locking eyes with you—smirking.</p><p>You know that devilish look. <em>Oh don’t you dare.</em></p><p>And with a good throw, the bouquet flies past the mob of hopeful brides-to-be. They attempt their hardest to reach for it but to no avail, now only able to merely follow it with their heads. A dozen heads turn to look at your figure and reality slaps them on the face all at once after seeing it’s already within your grasp.</p><p>
  <em>Fuck.</em>
</p><p>…</p><p>
  <em>Let’s just get this over with. Holy shit, can I do this…</em>
</p><p>You squirm in your seat, fiddling with the smooth lace wrapped around the bouquet on your lap—mentally debating whether to just say you’re not up for it, but your friends will never let you hear the last of it if you decide to sit this one out.</p><p>When you hear the swarm of bachelors bark in defeat, you look for the hand that holds the garter and your eyes widen in shock when you realize who it belongs to.</p><p>Although he doesn’t appear to be as miserable as you, not even his mask could hide that it irked him to be on the receiving end of all this attention. How he even ended up being included in the roster of bachelors, you do not know.</p><p>You’re being pulled by two of your friends towards the center stage. And just when you think things couldn’t possibly get worse,</p><p>“What do you say we kick things up a notch?” The DJ hypes up the crowd and two seconds later, one of the guests is yelling out, “use your teeth!” Pretty soon, the entire reception hall is echoing that same request.</p><p>At this point, you’re not even sure how to react anymore but it concerns you how his face just shifted from peeved to aggravated—and you can’t tell if it’s because of you or the crowd.</p><p>“You’re wasting your time, he’s never gonna say yes to that,” one of the groomsmen with light brown hair and round eyebrows answers in your entourage partner’s stead and snatches the garter from his hand.</p><p>There’s pressing from the audience but you try your hand at reassuring the onlookers, “it’s okay, we can just pick again. Plus, I honestly don’t think he’s up for it.”</p><p>You hear him snicker. <em>Did I say something wrong?</em> Shifting your gaze to him, you see that he has already taken off his mask.</p><p>“Get on the chair, <em>sweetie</em>.”</p><p>You could feel your heart drop in your chest at his behest.</p><p>He loosens his own tie. “Let me borrow that for a sec,” he says, turning to the one who took the garment from him.</p><p>The crowd whistles. But so far, with how fast paced the events are unfolding, that’s really the least of your concerns.</p><p>He kneels down on one knee and sneaks back a look at you before hooking a finger underneath your dress—lifting it a little and letting it hang on your knees to grant him a better view. You lower your head, trying to hide the redness of your cheeks after being slightly exposed for everyone to see.</p><p>He grabs your leg and your breath hitches at the sudden touch of his cold fingertips on your calves. He stretches the garter wide, letting you keep your shoe as he places the garment loose around your ankle. He brings your leg up higher—this time, near his face, securing the ivory band between his teeth.</p><p>The rhythm of your pulse drowns out whatever music and cheers that could be heard within these four walls. You’re on the edge of your seat, hands on either side of the chair for your own support, and providing him better access for when he gets to spaces that are…tighter.</p><p>You’re tickled by the brushing sensation of the lace as he swiftly drags the garter along your shin. He hooks a hand behind your other leg, subconsciously squeezing it when he struggles a little at your knee.</p><p>Once more, he slides a finger underneath the hems of your dress. He takes one look at you, as if to ask for permission, and you nod at him—prodding him to go on. At that, he slowly lifts the chiffon garment, burying himself underneath it—and you couldn’t stop your shivers from locking your muscles in <em>tight</em>.</p><p>Undeniably, you feel your insides coil at his now-dangerous proximity to your private area. You feel the garter hugging your skin tighter before it slaps your skin in his release, causing a bolt of heat to shoot down your center.</p><p>Abruptly, you feel a sharp sting when something sunk into the soft skin of your thigh as quickly as it left. Your eyes widened for a brief moment, making you bring a hand up to your mouth.</p><p>
  <em>Did he just…</em>
</p><p>At that he gets out of your dress, standing on his feet. The groom and the bachelors applaud but he seems unaffected by them.</p><p>You release what breath you hadn’t realized you were holding when he extends his hand out to you—your eyes locking as he helps you out of your seat.</p><p>You’ve since tuned out any noise from the people around you, especially now that you’re distracted by the new—tingling sensation of soft lace rubbing and tickling between your thighs.</p><p>The bride comes up to you—hugging and screaming at you—overjoyed, as if whatever the fuck just happened called for an even bigger celebration than her own wedding. You look for your partner, only to be met with his back as he heads for the exit. That makes his cue to take his leave, nowhere to be found for the rest of the evening.</p><p>…</p><p>In the later hours, you were barely speaking (or rather, barely responding properly) to other people. You’re tipsy from what little amount of wine and cocktails you had drunk and so far, you had only seemed interested in learning about <em>Sakusa Kiyoomi</em>—how he’s a professional volleyball player for one of Japan’s top leagues and they even warned you about him being too frank and too clean, but who on earth would complain about the latter?</p><p>The last of all the absurd wedding traditions is where the groom carries his bride to their room, and you all take that as your signal to leave as well. It’s pretty late but you still hadn’t gotten over your high from earlier. And with this place being the same hotel where most guests are checked in—though, you’d deny it if anyone asked—you silently hoped to at least bump into him again, checking at every turn as you make your way to your hotel room, but again, he’s nowhere to be seen.</p><p>Feeling uneasy, you get out of your clothes, leaving them and your other belongings on the floor of your bathroom, and find yourself soaking in a warm bath. You’re frustrated and the knotting feeling in the pit of your stomach never left. Resting your head on the edge of the tub, you close your eyes, repeating the moments over and over in your head, with each account of the memory almost as potent as when you had experienced it hours ago.</p><p>Finishing up in your late night bath, your attention is called by the sound of your phone receiving a text.</p><p>…</p><p><b>Text message </b>from unknown</p><p><b>Today</b> 2:00 AM</p><p>:I hope you don’t mind. I had Komori ask for your number from the bride.</p><p><em>Komori?</em> You had your guess—or hopes up, more likely. <em>But no way, it couldn’t be.</em></p><p>Who’s this?:</p><p><b>Today</b> 2:01 AM</p><p>:It’s Kiyoomi. Can I come over?</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. Something Blue Pt. 2 (Miya Atsumu) NSFW</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>In which you get to know each other under not-so-typical circumstances.</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p><b>warnings:</b> fingering, cussing, cockwarming, overstim (?), creampie atsumu lowkey being a whiny bitch<br/><b>other tags:</b> h word strangers, pillow talk, pet names, laughing betw. kisses</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>Making your way to your hotel room, you try your hardest to brush off your pseudo savior's eagerness.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He kept running the back of his fingers over the small of your back. At every turn, he persists on planting kisses atop your shoulder, barely taking care to be discreet.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The knowing looks that came your way didn’t help either. But that’s to be expected as it seems that Atsumu is just keen on trying you in every torturous way possible.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>When he squeezes the side of your hips after snaking a hand around you, it takes everything in you not to take him on in one of the dark corners of the hallway. Playfully hitting his side, you chuckle, “Atsumu, can’t you </span>
  <em>
    <span>at least</span>
  </em>
  <span> pretend not to be excited about this.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Pulling you closer to him, he whispers to your ear, “can’t help it. You looked so delicious back there.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Reaching your room, Atsumu stands right behind you as you fiddle with your keys, opening the door. You can feel his impatience growing and pressing against you as he parts your hair to one side, planting kisses at the crook of your neck. You hold back a moan, silently cursing him for blatantly paying no mind to the footsteps approaching the hallway.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Entering your room, Atsumu grabs your hand—interlocking with your fingers as he leads you to your bed. He sits on the edge and you straddle him as you unbutton his shirt.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Before you get to finish, he pulls you in by the back of your neck, his hunger evident in how he crashed his mouth into yours.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He runs his hands over your thighs—giving them a tight squeeze—before he awkwardly attempts to undress you.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Chuckling as you pull away, ”here, let me help you,” you tease. At that, he props his hands behind him—smirking as he watches you strip out of your dress.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He gazes at your form from the bottom up and lets out what breath he didn't know he was holding. His pupils are blown out as he takes in the sight of your exposed top. He reaches for your hand, drawing you back to him with your knees on either side of him as he snakes a hand around your waist.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“You’re fucking beautiful, y’know that?” he utters and you feel his soft hair brush over your shoulder blades as he plants a kiss on your chest. He moves his mouth to your nipple, releasing a popping sound as he alternates between licking and sucking on your supple flesh.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>”</span>
  <em>
    <span>Atsumu</span>
  </em>
  <span>,” you mutter his name to urge him to move faster.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>”Hm?” he replies, and knowing full well what you need, he brings a hand over your clothed sex.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“So you weren’t lyin’ about getting wet after all, were you, baby girl?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“S-stop teasing, Atsumu—fuck!” you cry out, arching into his touch—digging your nails into his shoulders—when he parts your underwear, running a finger in between your folds, and teases your clit.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I’m just stating the obvious, [y/n]. You’re so wet, so ready for me.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Before you could shoot back a response, his mouth is on yours again, kissing you fervently with his tongue battling against yours. You moan into his mouth as he rubs menacingly slow circles on your sensitive bud, letting out a whimper when he slides two digits inside you, ”mm—fuck!”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Pressing your forehead against his, you purred, “please, ‘Tsumu.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He lets out a soft breathy chuckle. You could tell he’s pleased with himself, toying at you who’s nearly coming undone with just his fingers.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He hooks his hands under your thighs, fingers digging in your skin as he lifts you—gently sitting you down on your bed.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>You draw your knees together when he takes a few steps back, subconsciously biting your lower lip as you watched him unbutton his shirt, revealing his rock hard build from underneath—not that you couldn't already tell from earlier. He hooks his thumbs inside the band of his pants and he pulls them down, making you feel your insides twist at the sight of his hard cock springing out—already slick with precum.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>His brown eyes are fixed on yours while he removes your underwear—making your breath hitch after getting bared completely to him. He lines himself at your entrance and the tip of his cock unintentionally rubs against your clit making your breath hitch.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>And for the last time, “Atsumu, please. I need you,” you beg.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He shoots you a smirk before wrapping your legs around his waist, fully thrusting all of his length inside you. Your own juices help with the stretch as he pounds into you on all fours.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>”Ah—god, Atsumu!” your eyebrows furrow as you cry out in pleasure. To stifle your moans, you bite into your thumb but that seems to do something to Atsumu, now that you notice his pace has grown rapidly.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>”fuck, if ya’ keep doin’ that I’ll be done in a matter of seconds,” his clicks his tongue and you feel him twitch inside you.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Wanting this to last as long as possible, you obey him, moving your hands to clutch on the sheets instead. But at the rate he’s going, you couldn't help but arch into him as you feel yourself nearing your climax.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>”This is </span>
  <em>
    <span>so</span>
  </em>
  <span> much better than the party,” you mumble.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Your breaths are getting shorter and you start to feel tears pricking your eyes. ”I’m almost—” you announce before closing your eyes, head tilting upwards subconsciously as you hit your orgasm.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>”No, no. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Fuck</span>
  </em>
  <span>. Look at me, I wanna see your pretty little face,” he demands as he continues to pound into you. Albeit getting conscious about your expression as you unraveled, you follow him.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>”Perfect,” he says as he clasps his calloused hands on yours, forcing you to let go of the sheets.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>His strides have gone uneven at this point and you wrap your legs tighter around him, waiting to hit your peak for the second time. You gasp as you force yourself to look at him while your insides clenched around his throbbing cock. You’re trembling in your high as he slams one more time into you—grunting in his own release before plopping on top of you.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Clearing your throat, you lightly urge him to shuffle from his position. ”Sorry,” he plants a kiss on your cheek, and for some reason, that made your heart skip a beat more than the intimate exchange you just had. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He props his arms and you bring your leg around so that he’s spooning you. It doesn't miss you that he’s still in you—</span>
  <em>
    <span>hard</span>
  </em>
  <span>—and you ignore his cum that’s beginning to drip out of you.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>”You’re not gonna look me up three months later asking for support aren't ya?” he says, panting.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>”You seriously thought to ask that only now?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He laughs sheepishly and you add, ”no, we’re good.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“How’d you end up going to the ceremony anyway? Big occasions don't seem like your type.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“You—you’re not just trying to make small talk, are you?” you tease.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“</span>
  <em>
    <span>Darling</span>
  </em>
  <span>, it’s called ‘getting to know you’,” he retorts.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I just like the beach,” you say—slightly taken aback by his sudden questioning. “And how are you related to the groom?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“We’re cousins. But he’s closer to my twin than me.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Looking over your shoulder, “you’re a twin?!”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Your insides suddenly twitched at your discovery, making him jolt upwards, ”careful, there,” he warns as he wraps an arm around your waist.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Same undercut, hair dyed gray. That’s right, I saw him too, how fucking dense of me.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Atsumu laughs at that, albeit exhausted. He kisses your shoulder, cheekily replying, “or you musta’ just been looking at the right sort.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“By right, you mean </span>
  <em>
    <span>you</span>
  </em>
  <span>?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah? You seemed to think so when you were screaming my name two minutes ago.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>”I’m just saying. I wouldn't know if you're the better twin. Just ‘cause—”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>At that, he flips you over—obviously not keen on letting you finish whatever it is you were gonna say.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>It doesn't take much until he’s thrusting into you again. This time, you grab hold of the headboard as he moves one hand to cup your breast and another on your back, keeping you just where he wants you.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He went down on you, this time </span>
  <em>
    <span>harder</span>
  </em>
  <span>, and for a while, you forgot that you had practically just met this person and yet he’s pounding into you for the second time around today.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The sound of his thighs ramming onto your ass sends your insides coiling. The fact that you’re feeling slightly sticky from his earlier climax sends a bolt of heat from your stomach down to your center—making you moan in pleasure. He squeezes your breast one last time before bringing his hand to rub circles on your clit. Once more, you arch into his touch—whimpering—as you get off from your third orgasm. Pretty soon, he’s coming off from his own high and he plops back down on the bed, pulling you close to rest beside him.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Just so ya know, I forgive you. Clearly, you weren't thinkin’ straight a while ago,” he says and you could almost hear the smirk in his face by how he said it.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“You are so </span>
  <em>
    <span>full</span>
  </em>
  <span> of it,” you sneer.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He pulls you in tighter before asking, “so, 8 PM tomorrow?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>”Deal.”</span>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0004"><h2>4. Something Borrowed Pt. 2 (Sakusa Kiyoomi) NSFW</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>In which Sakusa tries out new things</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p><b>warnings:</b> slight humiliation, fingering, oral (receiving), mention of alcohol (but neither of you are drunk), edging, slight praise kink<br/><b>wc:</b> 2.4k<br/><b>a/n:</b> up next is ‘Something Old’ w Iwaizumi. Enjoy! &lt;3</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <em> Three hours. It has been nearly three hours since you last saw him. </em>
</p><p> </p><p>A dim, ambient yellow emanates from the two lamps on your nightstands—your only sources of light. You sit on the edge of your bed, restless, mindlessly tapping the heel of your foot to the floor, taking deep breaths as your anticipation wells up in your chest.</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>Five minutes. That was how long it took for you to come up with an answer. </em>
</p><p> </p><p>You have done your part in reminding yourself that you just met the man today. You’re blatantly aware that an important bit of information holds him against your better judgment. Even so, you’re meek to dismiss the biggest warning signs over the slightest doubts that... <em> Maybe he means well? I don’t even know what he wants. But what could he possibly want at 2 in the morning? </em></p><p> </p><p>And as for you, well, what could you possibly want dressing up like that?</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>Twenty minutes. It has been twenty minutes since you replied to his text with your hotel room number. </em>
</p><p> </p><p>Clad only in the hotel-provided bathrobe that covers you only up to your thighs, you clump the blue, linen fabric in your balled fist, unarmed with the first thing to do or say once he gets here—once he sees how you chose to present yourself.</p><p> </p><p>The suspense is <em>killing </em>you. Your own imagination running amok causes you to put a hand in between your crossed legs. Your bottom lip, red and plump from your constant, thoughtless nibbling.</p><p> </p><p><em>Maybe this was a bad idea</em>, you realize, prompting you to get up and throw on some pants, underwear, <em> anything. </em> Except you’re brought to a halt when...</p><p> </p><p><em>2:30 AM </em> — <em> it’s what it says on the digital clock on your nightstand when you hear three full knocks coming from the other side of the door. </em></p><p> </p><p>Your body makes an involuntary turn towards the door, striding slowly as you tighten the belt of your robe. You could feel the blood rushing to your cheeks, heart pulsating when your hand makes contact with the cold doorknob. After having heard no follow-up nor signal from the other side of the door, you would have believed that your senses might’ve fooled you the first time you heard knocking. <em> Would have</em>, if it weren’t for the tall man in a gray hoodie and black sweatpants standing in front of you. It doesn’t miss you that even in the later hours, his pretty face is still concealed behind a mask.</p><p> </p><p>“Kiyoomi.”</p><p> </p><p>His eyes trail your form from up to down, tortuously slow, which you assume to be judgment from him, making you fiddle with your hair, looking away as you’re suddenly conscious of how you look.</p><p> </p><p>“Aren’t you gonna let me in, <em> y/n </em>?” he inquires, tone as monotonous as ever but you don’t miss the smirk in his voice at his mention of your name.</p><p> </p><p>You take a step back before turning your back to him, leading the way to your bedroom.</p><p> </p><p>Keeping a clear head proves to be quite the task. You’re careful not to let him detect any nervousness from you but you realize that to be a lost cause when the mere sound of the door closing shut behind him causes you to flinch, not to mention the hairs that prickle all over your body when he suddenly runs the back of his fingers along your spine.</p><p> </p><p>At that you turn to look at him over your shoulder, picking up that he’s also somewhat keeping a distance from you. Like he’s waiting for something from you, <em> a signal perhaps? </em> Your lips subconsciously part in your musing but you’re unable to mutter a single word.</p><p> </p><p>Raising a brow at you, he asks, “you’ve got questions?” which sounded more like a fact than a query.</p><p> </p><p>“Well, you—you disappeared all of a sudden...” you mumble, fiddling with your fingers as you turn to face him entirely.</p><p>“And?”</p><p>Scratching the back of your neck, you reluctantly ask, “I don't know, I guess I—where had you gone off to? And…why did you come over?”</p><p> </p><p>The first time his eyes leave your form, he cranes his head back, hands digging in the pockets of his hoodie as he thinks up an answer. When he doesn’t say anything, you add, “sorry, I didn’t mean to make you—”</p><p>“No one’s ever gotten me to be in that kind of position,” he responds and your heart drops over your presumption of where this conversation might lead to.</p><p>“Making me go down on my knees and stick my head underneath your skirt like that.”</p><p>“Are you…if you’re asking me to apologize then—”</p><p>“I’m asking you,” he takes a few steps closer to you, “to be a good girl for me like you were earlier, and then I’ll call it <em> even </em>.”</p><p> </p><p>Your breath hitches as you subconsciously draw one hand to a fist, feeling a pool of heat growing at your core before you nod your head twice at his given terms.</p><p> </p><p>His figure towers over yours as he tilted your chin up with a finger, “Not like that, y/n. I want you to say it.”</p><p> </p><p>“...I’ll be a good girl for you.”</p><p> </p><p>Soon, his hands are moving to the bands of his mask but before he could tug on them, you interrupt him, “Wait—” you pause, your eyelashes fluttering as his eyes bore into yours, “will you allow me?”</p><p> </p><p>At that, he relaxes his stance, letting you do as you please. And for the second time today, you’re rewarded with his soft, captivating features that he tends to deprive others of in his aversion to dirt. You brush off the thought but you’re keenly aware you’re never gonna get enough of this.</p><p> </p><p>He leans in to you, pressing you against him as he held you by the small of your back, hungrily attacking your mouth and betraying what composure he let on earlier.</p><p> </p><p><em>Ecstatic. </em>You wrap your hands around his neck, melting into his hold as you find the taste of his mouth finer, and far more intoxicating, than the liquors you indulged in today.</p><p> </p><p>He trails a hand lower, unintentionally pulling on the skirt of your robe, making you moan into the kiss as you feel a cold breeze brush past your slightly exposed bottom. </p><p> </p><p>Sakusa’s the first to pull away and you whine at the abrupt separation.</p><p> </p><p>“Lie down,” he commands. His voice has gotten deeper and you don’t fail to notice his half-lidded and dilated pupils before he places a soft, wet kiss on your cheek, pulling on the strings of your robe.</p><p> </p><p>Your hands automatically cross over your exposed chest but he pays no mind to it. Instead, he trails kisses from the crook of your neck up to your jaw, whispering to your ear afterwards, “y/n, you’re beautiful, you know that? And weren’t you the one who promised to be a good girl for me?” he kisses your temple and adds, “don’t make me repeat myself.”</p><p> </p><p>Biting your lower lip again, you let your robe drop on the floor and do as you’re told, propping your elbows on the bed while you have your knees drawn together. </p><p> </p><p>He gets his knees on the floor, positioning himself near your entrance, “keep still, I want to try something.”</p><p> </p><p>“What are you—”</p><p> </p><p>Sakusa parts your knees and that elicits a whimper from you. Warm breath fans over your opening before he takes a whiff, “lavender, huh? Were you preparing?”</p><p> </p><p>Your knees attempt to contract upon that question but he has them pinned on both sides.</p><p> </p><p>“This is embarrassing, Kiyoomi.”</p><p>“<em>Omi</em>. And of course, it is. Who would have guessed that sweet, harmless y/n would lie down in bed, spread wide open for me,” he teases, running his thumb along your slick folds, making you tip your head back when he starts to rub slow circles on your clit, “ <em> dripping</em>, when I haven’t even gotten to half of what I plan to do to her.”</p><p> </p><p>Your moans betray your own words. “O-omi,” you coo, squealing when he inserts two fingers inside you, fucking your hole as your purring filled the room. “Hm?” he asks before slowly licking stripes along your cunt, evoking a high-pitched moan from you.</p><p> </p><p>“Ha—Omi, I need—hm,” your words are coming out incoherent with how good Sakusa’s tongue feels on your clit, but it’s not quite enough. <em> More, more, more, </em>you try to ask from him even when you start to feel your orgasm building up. But right when your hole begins to spasm, Sakusa pulls his tongue back, fucking you with a third digit, and you slightly wince at the light tear.</p><p> </p><p>“What is it, y/n?” seeing the smirk plastered on his face causes your entire face to burn up, and at this point, you realize that he’s insistent on making you last out.</p><p>“I want to see you too, <em> please.</em>”</p><p> </p><p>...</p><p> </p><p>As if Sakusa eating you out wasn’t enough to push you over the edge, watching him strip out of his clothes was a whole experience in itself. He’s built as you would expect a professional athlete, but seeing all of him, <em> bare</em>, in the flesh sends your core throbbing in anticipation. And though you haven’t actually imagined it, you’re not surprised to see what he packs beneath his trousers—long, thick, and veiny—fully erect with the tip glinting with precum.</p><p> </p><p>“It’s rude to stare, y/n,” he says with sarcasm hinted in his voice, head down as he rolls a condom over his hard shaft. He doesn’t need to look at you to know you’ve been eye-fucking him. Even after seeing each other naked, after you practically let him taste you, you still feel the need to look away, flustered from just his words.</p><p> </p><p>He aligns himself at your entrance, laughing through his nose at your adorable flushed state. He tilts your chin to look at him, your blown-out irises meeting his black ones.</p><p> </p><p>“Please, Omi,” you mutter.</p><p> </p><p>He crouches down to your level, hands propping beside you as he kisses your lips gingerly. He pulls away, moving one hand to palm your face. His expression, both stoic and yet so, <em> so </em>tender. You suppose it’s part of his allure, him coming off ominous even as he peppers you with kisses.</p><p> </p><p>“You really are lovely, y/n,” he tells you, and without warning, he thrusts all of his cock inside you, making you scream both in pleasure and pain, your own wetness allowing him to slide into you with ease but it doesn’t help with the stretch. His hard length leaves your walls almost as soon as he pounds balls deep into you.</p><p> </p><p>“O-omi,” you cry out, head reclining back as you clutch onto his biceps. Worry builds up in your chest when you suppose that you might be enjoying this more than he is with how quiet he’s been, but that dissipates after recognizing that his breathing has turned shallow.</p><p> </p><p>“If only you could see how prettier you look when you’re being a good girl, taking my cock like that,” he remarks, his dark eyes hooded and boring into you.</p><p> </p><p>Every new detail of him etches into your mind, from the sight of his soft curls beginning to stick slick to his forehead, the feeling of his biceps contracting beneath your palms, the clashing sounds of your moans, his breathing, his occasional grunting, to every wet slap of his hips on your wet cunt.</p><p> </p><p>You can’t get enough of him. Although the obscene thought of fucking a man you had just met and know so little of should have scared you, it is, without a doubt, bringing you over the edge, making your walls knot at the very fact.</p><p> </p><p>You start to feel tears pricking your eyes when he grabs your thigh, wrapping your leg high around his waist, and you’re now a hissing and moaning mess at the ampler friction on both your clit and your g-spot.</p><p> </p><p>“Oh, you’re close?” he brushes away a few strands of your hair that got on your face, his hand digging back into your thighs as he wantonly jerks his hips to brush over your clit, “cum for me, y/n.”</p><p> </p><p>“Omi!” arching into him, you bring your head back as you let out a high-pitched cry of his name, your walls fluttering as you come undone around his cock, nails burying crescents into his skin, and you swear you heard Sakusa curse under his breath.</p><p> </p><p>And he doesn’t stop fucking you. He keeps a steady rhythm, coaxing the buildup of your second orgasm.</p><p> </p><p>“I—I want to make you feel good too, Omi,” you chirp, utterly intent on committing to your promise.</p><p>“I know you do, y/n,” he says as he moves a hand to caress your side, “you don’t know how good your tight cunt feels around my cock,” the corners of his mouth turn upwards, and albeit only slightly, the sight of it is a reward in itself.</p><p> </p><p>Before you know it, he’s drawing circles on your clit again with his thumb, and you’re practically losing your mind over how he keeps hitting your g-spot while he teases your sensitive bud. Your erratic heartbeat all but fills your chest when you notice his pace has gotten uneven, and his breath, shaky.</p><p> </p><p>“Omi, I’m—” he takes one full thrust in you, grunting, and you feel his cock twitch inside of you, preventing you from finishing your sentence when you reach your own high at the same time as his. His propelled hand doesn’t leave your side even when he’s on the brink of collapse from his own orgasm, and you can tell he’s avoiding crushing you with his towering form.</p><p> </p><p>He pulls out of you, flopping as he rests his head on top of your stomach, the both of you catching your breaths.</p><p> </p><p>He plants a kiss on your stomach before disposing of the condom. You don’t fail to notice that he wrapped it in a tissue before throwing it away, making you chuckle at how even when he’s exhausted to the brim, his own tendencies never leave him.</p><p> </p><p>You close your eyes for a moment, only opening them when you feel a shift of weight on the other side of the bed, and you see Sakusa sitting down, still catching his breath with his back slightly hunched, staring forward at nothing.</p><p> </p><p>Truth be told, you really don’t want to bring it up, but the question’s starting to well up in your stomach, “what...happens now?”</p><p> </p><p>“I wanna try something else,” he utters, “something where I get to wake up next to you in the morning,” and as soon as he spoke, you realized you were worried for nothing.</p><p> </p><p>Smiling to yourself, you respond, “I’d like that.”</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>I’m on <a href="https://sakuyomi.tumblr.com">tumblr</a>!</p></blockquote></div></div>
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